


The Path Unexpected

by DaronwyK



Series: What if... HP Drabbles & Short Stories [23]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Gen, HP: EWE, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 17:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14360271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: What if Harry took a different direction after the war, choosing a career no one would have expected?





	The Path Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> One-Shot for Now

o.o.O.o.o

 

Harry took a long look in the mirror while he adjusted the neck of his new robes. They were a dark forest green, edged in black. His hair was longer now, hanging just a little below his jawbone. He smoothed it back off his face and fastened it securely at the nape of his neck. He no longer had his trademark glasses, having seen a talented Occularist this summer who had been able to repair his vision. He found it quite drastically changed his appearance, making his green eyes all the more noticeable. He was returning to Hogwarts today, starting his new path in life. It had taken him more than four years after finishing his Newts to figure everything out.

 

He’d spent his whole life trying to please other people. His childhood had been spent trying to please the Dursleys, a Sisyphean task if there ever was one. Then his entire career at Hogwarts, he’d been trying to live up to the ghosts of his parents, and the monumental expectations of the entire British Wizarding community. Right after he’d completed his Newts, he had been offered a job as an Auror. He’d accepted, as it had seemed to be what everyone expected. Ron had been so happy when they’d started training together, talking about how they’d go down in history as the best Aurors ever. He’d continued to date Ginny, going with her to party after party and posing for photographs. It had all been what everyone expected his life to be.

 

His first week out on the job as a fully-qualified Auror, Harry had been sent to investigate reports of muggle baiting. What he’d stumbled into had been something out of his darkest, Voldemort-inspired nightmares. Some of the dead wizard’s supporters had gone to the home of the Monroes, a family that boasted not just one, but two muggleborn witches currently attending Hogwarts. What he’d found inside had left him in a cold sweat, wanting to simultaneously vomit and run away. The dark wizards had butchered the entire family, leaving them in pieces around the Christmas tree. Blood had painted the walls like some kind of macabre garland, and even now he had no idea how many people had been lying in pieces in the room. It was a disgusting panorama of arms, legs, torsos, and other unidentifiable bits.

 

Harry swallowed, filling a glass with water and drinking it down. The mere memory of that night enough to dry his mouth and close his throat, even two years later. He’d tendered his resignation the very next day. In that moment he’d realized that he didn’t want that to be his life. He wanted to live, to find out who ‘Harry’ was past the veneer of the Boy Who Lived. Ron had been furious with him, not understanding his decision to walk away. Ginny had started drifting away from him as soon as he stopped going to the parties and balls, choosing to spend his days renovating the long neglected Potter’s Mill, his family’s ancestral seat.

 

The nine months he’d spent away from the constant hounding of the press and pressure from the Ministry, had been exactly what he’d needed. While the Potter fortune had been drastically depleted during the first wizarding war, he’d had enough of a cushion to take some time and think about what he wanted. The only one of his friends that seemed to really understand had been Hermione, like him she’d taken a path less travelled. There had been options aplenty for the ‘Muggleborn Heroine’ as the press had dubbed her in the weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts. She’d had her pick of positions at the Ministry, an offer to teach Muggle-Studies at Hogwarts from Minerva, and dozens of offers for apprenticeships around the world. She’d accepted a Charms apprenticeship from the renowned spell-crafter Renaud Fillieux. Currently she was living in the south of France, studying for her Mastery.

 

Hermione had urged him to consider taking an apprenticeship. He was a singularly gifted wizard, and there was no reason why he should not continue to learn and develop his skills in an area that had his interest. She’d been quite sure that no one would pass up the chance to assist Harry Potter in achieving a Mastery.

 

Harry smiled a little and left the bathroom, well aware that he was as ready as he was going to get for his first day as an apprentice. He shrunk down his travel trunk, all his belongings carefully packed into it, and slipped it into his pocket. He would have little time to himself over the next few years, and returning to the Mill would be a rare treat. He was going home, to Hogwarts. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before apparating to Hogsmeade.

 

While he had grown accustomed to the bone squeezing sensation of that method of travel, it was still not a favourite of his. He remembered walking these streets as a student, the thrill it had been to escape the castle and come here for a butter beer, or to stock up on Honeyduke’s chocolate. He could have apparated closer to the gates, but he wanted to have the time to order his thoughts before passing back into the one place he’d always felt he’d belonged.  While his feet set off on an achingly familiar path, he let his mind wander to how he’d come to obtain his position as an apprentice at all.

 

_~One Year Ago~_

_Harry knocked politely on the door of an office he’d visited many times as a student. Professor Snape had returned to Hogwarts after a few years sabbatical following the war. The rumor was that it was not entirely by choice, but that the castle had flat out refused to acknowledge anyone else Minerva had tried to appoint as Slytherin’s Head of House. The quarters had remained sealed, and each candidate’s belongings had been perpetually re-packed, and re-located to the Entrance Hall. At her wit’s end Minerva had tried talking to the Sorting Hat about the problem, and he had informed her that Hogwarts wished for the return of Severus Snape and would accept no other._

_“Enter.”_

_Harry pushed open the door and nodded politely to the man who had sacrificed so much for everyone. “Professor, you’re looking well,” he said. The man truly did look much better. He’d lost the yellow sallowness to his skin, and some of the lines had been all but erased from his face. He supposed that serving two masters for so long had to take a physical toll as well as the obvious mental one._

_“Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your visit?” The slightly mocking tone in his voice was familiar._

_“I was hoping I could speak to you about a few Potioneers that I am considering apprenticing under,” he said._

_Severus eyebrows rose dramatically. “I was unaware you had such an interest.”_

_“It’s not something I realized I had, until I took some time to really think about my future,” Harry said honestly._

_“Very well, sit. Mipsy! Tea for two please," Severus said to the little elf who popped in._

_Harry settled into the chair across from the Potions Master. He wanted to learn from the best, but Snape wouldn’t ever hand him something just because he asked for it. He helped himself to the tea and little chocolate biscuits that appeared between them._

_“So, who’s offered to take on the famous Harry Potter?” Snape drawled, mentally running over which Masters were currently lacking an apprentice._

_“Master Fawley, Master Dent, and Master Scrivens have all made offers. While I’ve checked their qualifications, I know that I'm beyond a novice and would prefer to hear your thoughts on their actual merits.” He said, having spent days going over exactly what he wanted to say. He wasn’t being deceitful, all three men had offered to take him on after he’d made a trip to the Society of Potioneers, and been seen perusing information on the Mastery exam and application process._

_Severus looked actually moderately impressed. “While all three have their merits, I’m certain what you are most interested in is their deficits,” he paused to sip his tea. “While Peter Fawley is an accomplished Potions Master, he has a reputation for riding roughshod over his apprentices. Of the six he’s had in the last decade, only one passed their Master and I believe the young man did it out of pure spite. Morden Dent is…uninspired, and bound too tightly by the rules. He lacks a true feel for the art. Though if you aspire only to brew standard potions as a hobby, I suppose he would be sufficient,” his upper lip curled in contempt of the man. How he’d ever earned a Mastery, Severus would never know. A part of him wondered if the examiner at his final testing owed the man’s family a debt of some kind. “And I would hardly call Hubertus Scrivens a master at anything other than stroking his own bloated ego,” the pure disdain dripping off his words had been something formally reserved for Sirius Black and James Potter alone._

_Harry’s eyebrows rose. “So you’d advise rejecting them all?”_

_Severus gave him a look that clearly said he was stating the obvious. “After your very public resignation from the Auror corps after a mere week, it is highly unlikely Mr. Potter that anyone truly worth learning from would consider accepting you as an apprentice. At least not until you had proved you were capable of truly committing yourself to the art,” he held up a hand to forestall the argument he knew was coming. “Unlike many, I understand why you tendered your resignation. However, I am unconvinced that this is truly a path you wish to walk. I am willing to give you the opportunity to prove me wrong. You will assist me for two days each week, working no less than twelve hours each day. You will report to this office at six each morning, and will take your meals with me in the Great Hall. You will work diligently at whatever task I set for you, regardless of whether or not you see the point to it. At the end of the school year, we will revisit your desire to be apprenticed in the art of Potion Making. Is that acceptable to you?”_

_Harry nodded. “In truth, it was more than I dared hope for Sir. What days did you wish me to be here for?”_

_“We will begin with Saturdays and Sundays, starting this weekend. You may end this arrangement at any time you wish, without any ill will. This is not a subject that many have the sheer perseverance to excel at,” Severus said simply._

_“I look forward to learning from you, Sir.”_

_~End Flashback~_

Harry paused as he reached the gate, allowing himself a genuine smile as he saw who was waiting to admit him. The students would not return for another week, but Severus had been adamant that he arrive early and get himself settled before the little dunderheads returned. It was not his Master waiting for him though, it was Minerva standing there a small smile softening her normally severe face. He paused and nodded politely.

 

“Headmistress.”

 

“Welcome home, Mr. Potter,” she said, gesturing for him to walk into the castle with her. “I cannot tell you how very proud of you I am. It takes great courage to cast aside the expectations of others, and find something that speaks to you.”

 

“A part of me was afraid that killing dark wizards was all I was good at, all I’d ever be good for,” Harry said quietly, betraying that truth about himself to the old witch. “It took walking into that house for me to realize that I wanted more from my life. I finally understood that I deserved to be happy, and hang what anyone else wanted.”

 

“And that, Mr. Potter, is the hardest lesson we learn as we grow up,” Minerva laid a hand on his shoulder and patted it gently. “Severus insisted that you be given rooms near his in the dungeons, but if they are truly not to your liking, I am certain we can make other arrangements.”

 

“That’s very kind of you Professor, but I prefer to be close to Professor Snape’s quarters. Much of my work will be in the potions labs, and at the end of the day I’d rather not have to navigate dozens of flights of stairs, and masses of students,” he chuckled knowing how it had to sound. At least he hadn’t yet started calling them dunderheads.

 

“As you like then. How is Miss Granger? I understand you went to visit her in Nice last month,” she allowed herself to ask after her other favourite pupil. She corresponded with the young witch regularly, but her letters were always quite formal.

 

“She’s very well, her master has written to the French Charms Authority to allow her to sit her exam before the New Year. We celebrated my birthday on the French Riviera, and Bill and Fleur joined us with their children for a day out on a sail boat,” Harry had never been out on the water, it had been a memorable experience.

 

“I haven’t been sailing in an age,” Minerva reminisced. “Well, give her my regards the next time you speak with her. I know that your time will be very much spoken for, but do try and enjoy being back home again Mr. Potter. We are quite happy to have you among us, and I expect great things from you,” she took her leave of him in the Entrance Hall, heading off to see to some last minute paperwork for the coming term.   

 

“Minerva was adamant that she be the one to meet you at the gate,” Severus’ voice came from the shadowed entrance to the dungeons. “Come, I will show you to your quarters so that you can get settled in. We will work a half-day today, I’m certain that you can manage to get your things sorted between now and lunch?”

 

“Yes, Master Snape.” Harry said respectfully, aware that was how he was to address him now.

 

Severus snorted. “In private you may call me Severus, as I refuse to refer to you constantly as Apprentice Potter.” He’d always despised the rigid formality of the formal mentoring process.

 

“Thank you, Severus,” he said as the reached one of the many decorative archways. At the very top of the archway, rather than the generic Hogwarts crest like most others, was nestled the crest of Slytherin guarded by two intertwined runespoors. He was unable to help the smile that crossed his lips.

 

“These rooms have been used by the apprentices of the Hogwarts Potions Master for centuries, though it’s been nearly ninety years since Hogwarts has had an apprentice living in the Castle,” He tapped the top right corner of the archway and a door appeared. “You may set any password you wish by touching the crest with your wand and speaking your chosen word or phrase. You are not to entertain students in your quarters at any time, for any reason. You may entertain personal guests, but you must inform me ahead of time so I may obtain permission from Minerva,” he said as they entered.

 

Harry smiled and took a moment to look around.  There was a small but cozy sitting room with a large fireplace, and a pair of comfortable looking armchairs. There was a desk against the wall beside a door that Harry assumed led to his bedroom. The general colour scheme was in earth tones, nothing overtly skewed towards one house or another. There was an empty bookcase built into the wall, and he knew it would easily hold all his books with room to space. “This is will be perfect Sir.”

 

“I’ll leave you to get unpacked, and meet you in the Great hall for lunch,” Severus smiled a little. Once Harry acknowledged him, he turned and left the young wizard to get himself sorted.

 

Harry went to the door and opened it to find a narrow hallway. There were three doors. Inside the first room was a small personal lab, complete with a supply cabinet that seemed to be warded against accidental explosions. The next door led to his bathroom, and the final room was his bedroom. There was a four poster bed, much larger than the one that he’d slept in all those years in Gryffindor Tower. It was hung with forest green curtains but edged in gold. He took his trunk out of his pocket and resized it. A flick of his wand and it popped open, books stacking themselves neatly on the bed and clothing going into the wardrobe and hanging itself up nearly. He levitated the books out to the sitting room and got them on the shelf. His smaller possessions he took from the trunk and put away by hand. He set up the desk with new parchment, quills, ink, and a pen knife to keep them sharp. His limited personal potions supplies went into the lab, and he got everything organized neatly. He couldn’t help but think Hermione would be proud, he’d finally realized the value of everything being in its proper place. He’d come to understand that one of the many things that had always bothered him about Ron was his inherent disorder. He loved his friend like a brother, but sometimes he just set his teeth on edge the way he just tossed shit wherever he pleased.

 

The finishing touch was the pictures he settled onto the mantel over the fireplace. There was a picture of his parents, one of him this summer with Hermione on the boat, a few with Ron, and a picture of Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place the summer before Sirius had died. His new home complete, he sank down into the armchair to rest for a minute, likely his last quiet moment until he successfully wrote his Mastery exam. It was incredible to him that after everything that had happened, all the places he’d been and battles he’d fought, Harry had finally come full circle. He was home, starting the next chapter of his life where everything had begun. This felt right in a way that being an Auror never had, and he was grateful for the chance to get to know the wizard that had sacrificed so much without any intention of surviving to be rewarded for it. He could only hope that at the end of his journey, he was half the man that Severus was.

 

~Fin~


End file.
